A helicopter flew over the streets, as police on foot and in cars, patrolled, searching for the Bad Dudes. Striker and Blade were hidden behind a dumpster as a few officers passed by.

Policeman #1: I think I saw them go this way!

Policeman #2: I'll bring the drug sniffing dog!

Policeman #1: Why the fuck would you do that?

Policeman #2: They say Detective Blade is a massive coke addict.

Policeman #1: Oh yeah. Good idea then. Haha!

Trevor Blade: The fuck? I totally quit-

Tack Striker: Shh!

Striker held Blade's mouth shut until the police left the area.

Tack Striker: We have to be more careful .

Trevor Blade: I wish I knew who that was. When this is over, we're going to have a little chat. Is it police brutality if it's a cop beating a cop?

Tack Striker: That'll put you right back in the place we just escaped from.

Trevor Blade: Well, I hadn't gotten my sweet prison tat yet, so it could be worth it.

Tack Striker: Your logic is staggering. You sure you're off the junk?

Trevor Blade: Damn right I am, but if you think it suddenly makes you lucid and clear headed, you're our of your mind. Makes me edgy and irritable.

Tack Striker: More so than us-

Trevor Blade: Yes, more so than usual. About time you cracked a joke.

Tack Striker: No time for joke. We need to find these bastards, so I can kill them myself for what they did to Tracy.

Trevor Blade: Now you're the one not thinking clearly. You want to get back into prison orange so soon? We have to do some detective work here. We don't have the "Kill all Ninjas" mandate this time around. Let's go to Talia's place.

Tack Striker: You think that's the best idea? Don't want to put her in harm's way.

Trevor Blade: She was put there the moment she met us. I need to make sure she's alright. Plus, I really want my jacket back. Wait. Listen.

Tack Striker: Huh?

The Dudes ducked back down, as a Ninja jumped down into the street, quick to pursue the cops.

Trevor Blade: There's our bitch.

Tack Striker: What? Oh, I get it. Yeah, let's go have a "chat". Remember, stealthy and subtle.

Trevor Blade: You know me.

Moments later, they had the Ninja dangling off the side of a bridge.

Ninja: Help! Help me!

Trevor Blade: Ninja your way out of this one. No grappling hook? No shurikens? Smoke bomb? You're the worst Ninja man.

Tack Striker: This really isn't what I had in mind.

Trevor Blade: If it works it works.

Tack Striker: It's not working yet.

Trevor Blade: Give it time. Gravity gets the job done.

Ninja: Are you kidding? You're cop. You won't drop me. You have rules and regulations.

Trevor Blade: I have hands that are getting tired dick head, and if gravity doesn't work, the momentum and impact will be a nice consolation. Physics can be fun!

Ninja: Help!

Tack Striker: Who do you work for?

Ninja: You know who!

Tack Striker: Dragon Ninja? Yes, of course you work for them, but I'm talking about the intermediary. The one pulling your strings right now. Mr. H? Mr. M?

Ninja: Yes! Yes! Mr. M works for Mr. H, and they both assist Dragon Ninja!

Tack Striker: Where are they?

Ninja: No! I can't tell you that! Fuck you!

Trevor Blade: The language on this guy. What happened to the code of silence. You've already given up some information. I'm sure Dragon Ninja would hate to find that out. Screw, I'm just going to drop hi-

Ninja: No! LA! They're here in LA!

Tack Striker: Because of Jennings? What did he have to do with all of this?

Ninja: They wanted him dead, and they wanted you in prison!

Trevor Blade: Two birds with one stone. Well, that's everything. Later dude.

Trevor let go and the Ninja fell several feet, landing on the roof of a car.

Tack Striker: Shit! You actually let him go.

Trevor Blade: He's probably fine.

Tack Striker: You said we were going to scare him!

Trevor Blade: Didn't he sound scared when he fell?

Tack Striker: You really are crazy.

Trevor Blade: You worry too much.

Tack Striker: You don't worry enough!

Trevor Blade: Aggressive remember? You wanted anger, and you've got it. These fuckers are still here in LA. They want us out of the picture for a reason that involved Jennings. We need to hit up this lead, but first we're going to Talia's to get a change of clothes. Let's move.

The Dudes made it to Talia's and changed into their more familiar clothes, ditching the prison orange.

Trevor Blade: Talia must still have my jacket. I hope she's alright. I can't have anything happen to her. Not like them.

Tack Striker: Like who?

Trevor Blade: Ask me another time. We've got to go.

Tack Striker: Wait, do you hear that?

Trevor Blade: Ticking. That's a-

Tack Striker: Bomb!

Trevor Blade: Run!

The Dudes jumped through the window of the apartment building just as Talia's place erupted into flames.




Blade picked himself up out of the fiery wreckage, and stared at the flames. He put on his shades, with the flames reflecting in them, as he turned to help up Striker. The Dude walked across the street, and took the sheet off of a white convertible, shining in the sunset. They quickly drove off, putting as much distance as possible between them and the blown up apartment. Day turned to night, as the Dudes drove silently, the wind blew through their hair, as they traveled down the neon soaked streets.

Outside of the hotel, Talia Rothrock went outside to get some fresh air. A man in shadows moved the shades in his window to get a better look at her. He took a drink of his scotch and took a drag from his cigarette, the billowing smoke filling the room overlooking Talia. The phone rang, and the man picked it up quickly.

Mr. H: Yes, I'm here. So it's going according to plan? Good. I'm glad to hear that. You know what I'm not glad about Mr. M? The Dudes have escaped. Stingray is dead. They're back on the streets. I can't have this Mr. M. I can't have it at all. Do I need them dead? No. No I don't need anything. I want. I want them dead. I want someone else dead in the process. I've got eyes on them right now. Bring the Ninjas, and we'll proceed.

Mr. H slammed down his phone and looked back out the window, his face reflected in the glass, looking very much like Sal Bennett.

Mr. H: Those "Bad Dudes" want to fuck with me? Come out and play. You'll see how fucked you truly are.